I felt like I was seeing everything in a new way. The grass is green now and the baby leaves emerging. It felt like a first-time drive out across Wisconsin’s farmland. Some of the farms were impeccable with crisp borders and tidy yards, almost sterile. But there were the messy farms. One such farm appears to still be dumping their trash over the bank into the brambles like many farmers did when I was young. Some scenes brought back childhood memories of driving through the same farmland and Dad talking to us about this rich, flat farmland. The mega farm we noticed could be detected by a faint smell before it came into sight. I’m sorry to be critical.
Happily, I noticed that people have been remodeling their homes. There are new porches and add-ons. Possibly Covid helped us to re evaluate and to want to make home nicer. There are new raised-bed gardens. Some old homesteads have a new lease on life with new fencing and sheep grazing.
Elv noticed that gas prices are rising. And now they’ve added a DEF pump to the line-up. He explained that this is a required additive for the new diesel engine.
The airport has changed too. It’s quieter. Fewer people, spaced out. The plane I’m on has more empty seats than full ones. I was assigned an aisle seat, but quickly realized that I could scoot over to the window … Nobody came to fill B and C. Another happy thing is about the screens on the back of every seat. They’re gone.
People are still being themselves, either on their phones doing business or face timing with their little ones at home. Now that there’s space to sleep or rest, they’re curling up on two seats and doing that. Nobody disturbs them. So much more sane again.
It’s cloudy though, so I’m seeing mostly whiteness and fluff and feathers of clouds with only occasional glimpses of the land below. It’s bumpy too.
I must have been down through the rabbit hole of our hard stuff for too long. It does feel today exactly like I’ve emerged, blinking in the bright sunshine and feeling fresh air. I recommend new scenery to all of you, my friends.
Stone House Scribblings 